


Nothing "Just" About It...

by maggietenobar



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: FTM!Enjolras, M/M, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 21:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggietenobar/pseuds/maggietenobar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Combeferre have never been <i>just</i> friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing "Just" About It...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tantamoq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tantamoq/gifts).



> I started writing this months ago inspired by my now-boyfriend, whose constant refrain when it comes to e/c is "they should get married". Which yes, they should. Anyway, it's his birthday so I finally finished it. 
> 
> Cas, I adore you, but you already knew that.

No one was quite sure how it happened, except perhaps for Combeferre and Enjolras themselves. They themselves knew not the exact whens, nor even indeed the precise hows, only the general whys. They knew for instance, when graduation and their post-grad careers came, that it would only make sense for Combeferre and Enjolras to move in together as they were both continuing at Harvard and Grantaire had no plans beyond making enough money off his art to buy alcohol and a bare amount of food. They knew that sharing a bed had come in a similar way, between the growing need for an office in their two bedroom apartment, and too many nights falling asleep atop each other either on the couch or one of their beds, surrounded by books and papers. There was also the fact that Enjolras seemed to be developing insomnia and slept better with Combeferre around. 

And so here they were, eight years later, on the night before Combeferre’s parents called, curled around each other on what was once just Enjolras’ bed, fast asleep.

\---

Combeferre hung up the phone and entered the living room.

“My mother,” he said, sitting next to Enjolras on the couch, “thinks I am unhappy because I lack a partner."

Enjolras curled up on his end of the couch and put his head in Combeferre’s lap, “So what else is new?"

Combeferre laughed and began stroking Enjolras’ long curly hair idly. After a time, Enjolras said, “She’s wrong you know." He paused. “You have me."

“I know,” Combeferre said ruefully. “She just doesn’t understand our relationship."

A few minutes stretched in companionable silence.

Suddeny Enjolras spoke quietly. “Will you marry me?"

Combeferre’s hand stilled. He had to have misheard him. “What did you say?"

“Will you marry me?" Enjolras said, louder this time.

“I thought that’s what you said."

“Well?”

“Why?”

“Well we’ve already spent a significant portion of our lives together, and as far as I’m aware neither of us plan on altering that arrangement. It would make your parents happy. Besides, professors get better insurance benefits than activists, and with the state of greed and ignorance this country is in, it doesn’t look like healthcare equality will becoming anytime soon. It really is sickening how selfish-"

Enjolras!" Combeferre cut him off. “We were discussing getting married, is this really the time for a political rant?"

“If it were philosophy you wouldn’t mind. But I digress. The point is, I love you, and you love me, and yes, it’s platonic, but that doesn’t mean anyone but us gets to dictate the significance of our relationship. And it is significant."

“Yes.”

Enjolras didn’t hear him and continued, “And I worry too. Everytime I go to a protest there’s a chance I’ll get arrested, but there’s also a chance, hopefully a small one, but it’s there, that I’ll get injured and end up in the hospital, and if that happens, I can’t stand the thought that you might not be allowed to see me."

“Yes.”

Enjolras sat up, his brow furrowed and blue eyes alight, saying, “I just hate being away from you, and-"

“Enjolras!” Combeferre said, cutting him off with a short kiss. “How many times do I have to say it?” he said as the kiss broke. “Yes, I will marry you!"

“Oh.”

“What about your parents? I know mine will be happy, but I doubt yours will be."

Enjolras grit his teeth. “They’re still in mourning over the daughter I couldn’t be. They may as well mourn the heterosexual son I can’t be too. I’ve never let their opinion stop me before and I’m not about to start now."

“Well,” Combeferre said with a smile, “I guess I better call my mom back."


End file.
